


Us, Forever

by AGreySunset



Category: Steven Universe(Cartoon)
Genre: Amnesia, Angst and Tragedy, Body Horror, Character Death, Character Study, Dark, Execution, Existential Angst, F/F, Flashbacks, Forced Gem Fusion, Forced Relationship, Heavy Angst, Mental Instability, Multiple Personalities, No Dialogue, Physical Abuse, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 11:36:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13189257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AGreySunset/pseuds/AGreySunset
Summary: I used to think accident and mistake were synonyms, but now I know they aren't.Seeing the care, effort that must have been used to make an abomination like me, I realize I was not, could not be a accident.But I am most definitely an mistake.





	Us, Forever

They.. She... I?

I.

I am one.

This is something I know. One of the few things I am completely sure of.

But I feel it wasn't always this way...

I was... two?

I can't remember and that frustrates me, causing some discomfort, turning to pain, in my head.

I'll think about it later. Something to figure out in the future.

I wasn't sure how long it had been, taking in a deep breath and steadying myself. I brush myself off, shaking myself off as a wet dog would. I stand up. How long has it been since...

How long since what...? I remember there being something...

Another thing to solve, another piece in the puzzle of my actuality.

Since, well... it doesn't come back to me, and I don't know what I was thinking. Wait...

The shattering! My shattering.

I remember it, or they do, more honestly. The steely room it happened in, the sharp weapon used to do it, to slowly kill them, or nearly, split them apart, then force them together. I cringe at the thought. The memory of the pain, the agony is gut wrenching, but also confusing in a different part.

They were two...

I was two.

It's odd to think of them apart, two separate, living, whole beings... Were they? Was that just a dream?

Wait...

Was what a dream? 

What was I thinking of? 

They? Is there a they? Was there? Because now, there is no discernible two, so tightly intertwined you can't tell me apart from... me?

The memories are gone, quick as they arrived, and I'm left feeling lost. I shake my head, glancing at my surroundings. Maybe I can find a clue, to what happened to me, to them. A reason why I exist as me, and not as them.

The gray steel floor is stiff under my dull green and flat gray limbs, two of them, a hand and a foot, or the ones on the lower part of my body. 

I look down, then immediately regret it.

I know a second thing now.

This is not what I should look like.

I study myself, horrified by my face, or lack thereof, my head being an abruptly ending sphere, looking like it had been smashed in. 

A leg sticks out of my back, with some horribly mutilated foot at the end. It serves no purpose. A hand comes out on my chest, right below my chin. Right in the center of my stomach come the hand and foot I'm using to balance.

I think the worst part is my gem.

Or what's left of it.

It's precise position alters, due to my skin and general form being not quite solid. More... fluid. Not watery, or even quite liquid, but thick and slow, like molasses. For now, it's such where my right breast was, blocked by a especially slow moving, nearly solid chunk of... me.

That actual stone is dull and jagged, stuck haphazardly together. The black and green melt into each other, probably glued together by heat. It makes me shudder with disgust.

I used to think accident and mistake were synonyms, but now I know they aren't.

Seeing the care, effort that must have been used to make an abomination like me, I realize I was not, could not be a accident.

But I am most definitely an mistake.

I make myself want to gag. I feel... that I am an insult. An insult to nature, a slander to order. To how I was supposed to be. To what I was supposed to be.

What have I become? Was I ever anything else? Anything more? Anything whole? I feel like I once was, but the memories feel like a fever dream, and are disappearing. I can't make sense of what I am, other than that I'm... wrong. Incomplete. Half. Defective. 

The decomposed part of a otherwise evolved species.

Entropic.

My very existence is entropy.

I lie on the floor, in a puddle of goop dripped from me, knowing I can leave, but afraid to be found. Of who will find me. What they'll think of something as broken as me.

I don't know what people would of an anathema, disgrace, atrocity, obscenity such as myself.

Soon, one thing becomes clear. Another thing to add to my list of constants.

I want to be free.

Not just physically, not from this room, but to be salvaged from this wreck of a body. These scraps, shards that can't talk, or smile, or even walk. To have a solid, competent, functioning firm.

I hate the squelch I hear when I pick up my foot. The slush of my limbs when I stand up.

I hate the splitting headaches, the hours of amnesia, the half truths, random thought, quotes out of context.

And to have memories that aren't foggy, or paradoxical, inconsistent, or just... have them at all. To know what I am. Who I am. Who I was. Who they were. If they were anyone.

I have never had these things, but they have. 

Right?

If there is a they... If they aren't two figments of my imagination, merely preventing my fall to insanity. Descent to madness. Gradually lose my mind. Watch as dementia takes over, and as my lunacy dictates, replaces any previous logic.

There is a reason there is so many words for derangement of the mind. It's so complex, yet so easy to push someone over into the abyss of it.

But I have a memory. A single, clear, pure light. Untouched, unfaded, bright.

The memory is brief. But it is there, which is so much preferable than if it was absent. But its all I need to prove they aren't simply a barricade between me and senility. 

A largely black colored humanoid, a ... gem(?) with highlights of green and purple. She walks up to a slightly shorter, much less muscled lime gem, and forms a fist, gently hitting the chartreuse gem in the shoulder. A quiet noise comes out of her mouth, nothing special. 

Except it is, it's monumentous in the perspective of my attention starved, hallucinating mind.

The act itself seems random, pointless out of context, but it's what they symoblolize. The flashback is from my larger component, and I canexperiencel the way she sees the world. 

Carefree. Strong. Confident.

She is perfectly able, in a way that I have never experienced. That I've always longed to. A way I envy with my poorly shaped body, my tattered pysce, my very soul, my whole self.

I want to be whole. I want them to be apart. Ironically, I think those are the same thing.

I belive my existence, me being an amalgam of them, is what causes them such misery.

I want that, for them to really exist, for me to be them, so violently, so passionately, it scares me. 

And if not that... I don't want anything. I would want death. Complete and utter lack of existence. An absence of my life from reality.

But it's far too late for that. I'm far too gone, it's been much too long since I was alive enough to die.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't think I've ever written anything this dark.....
> 
> Wow.


End file.
